


pre flight jitters

by kuill



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Breaking the Fourth Wall, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Season 2 spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-18 14:30:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9389294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuill/pseuds/kuill
Summary: The day of reckoning is nigh — and Shiro wants to submit an application for the position of Most Stressed Over Season Two Premiere, pretty please and thank you.----A lighthearted fic done for Day 0 of the Voltron Season 2 Countdown event, in which Shiro is freaking out a little.Just a little.And everyone shames everyone else.





	

**Author's Note:**

> (Pinch hitter for Day 0 of the [Voltron Countdown](https://twitter.com/vlds2countdown) twitter event!) 
> 
> Yeaahhhh fourth wall shenanigans. Season 2 trailer spoilers en masse, highly recommended you watch that first ;) (and build hype!!!!!)
> 
> Don't think too hard about the mechanics of this fic please because I didn't think too much about it either until about 3/4 of the way through and then it was Too Late. SO. ENJoy.

The day of reckoning is nigh — and Shiro wants to submit an application for the position of Most Stressed Over Season Two Premiere, pretty please and thank you.

Look, it’s not that he hates the series. This  _ Legendary Defender _ reboot has been everything he’s ever wanted since his tiny child self first stumbled on the very first visibly hand-painted and brightly-coloured edition of Voltron and those air-splitting heart-pounding  _ blam blam _ laser sounds that would send the sweetest chills all over him. No big deal, they were only the stuff of his wildest dreams. Not to mention he’s only watched that first series nine times and he can recite entire dialogues off the top of his head and make all the  _ guuwaaarrr _ sounds that the robeasts made if he really wanted to, and perhaps both best and worst of all:

He knows what happens… to him.

Okay, so maybe he’s freaking out. A little. Just a little. Enough for him to be kept awake for too long as he frets and worries about all the horrible ways that he could… go (the word ‘die’ still comes off a little too strong and he wants to pretend that the inevitable will have mercy on his tired, overthinking soul).  _ It’s a reboot not a remake,  _ he reminds himself multiple times a day, but it’s not enough because the Voltron production crew is big on honoring the source material and when said source material puts your head on the chopping block it makes you really, really wish for an out. Any out.

He might already have been through a bunch of scenarios about what awaits him when he finally reaches The Mysterious Light At The End Of The Tunnel. Out of the mangled wreck he’s identified about five that sit pretty okay with him. They are, in no particular order:  
  


  1. Glory, and the fabled _upgrade ex machina._  And then viola! The universe shall be saved.  
  

  2. The mind of Voltron. He will finally be able to ask all the questions he wants. Maybe Black will even tell him if he’s pressing on the pedals too hard, or why the yoke always jams when he tries to veer too far left.  
  

  3. ??????? ? 42?? ?? ??? ??  ? ??? ?????? He’ll bring a towel for this.  
  

  4. P a i n    a n d    s u f f e r i n g   (read: not death)  
  

  5. A nice warm bowl of mac’n’cheese and a pile of blankets with the biggest, fluffiest golden retriever that lets him sidle up against it and gives him all the cuddles and dog-breath kisses he wants. Or a pile of tiny pomeranians. _Or_ whatever the Galran or Arusian equivalent turn out to be. Those are fine too — after fighting robeasts that look like they’ve been ripped straight from a child’s nightmare he really isn't fussed. 



  
Sounds great. Sounds… well, it doesn’t sound great, so maybe just… reasonable. He can settle for  _ reasonable. _ Particularly option #3. Mice are, after all, central to the plots of at least one episode of several of the old Voltron makes  _ and _ also the hyper-intelligent species that would lead humanity to finding the answer to life, the universe, and everything. There  _ has _ to be some sort of connection there.

But whatever he’s thought up feels so painfully inadequate. He just  _ knows _ he’ll end up being wrecked three ways to Arusian Sunday. And Friday’s barely even begun. 

He used to think Earth days were long, but those Arusian days  _ really _ test a man’s patience. Don’t ask. He has no strength to recount that story. 

The most pressing thing right now is the Premiere. Everyone’s feeling it too, actually, because he makes it to the den for breakfast and is surprised to see them all present and looking a little pale, a little worse for wear in the way people are when they’re waiting on the best jumpscare of their lifetime. 

“Hi,” says Shiro as he slides into the biggest beanbag since claimed as his.

The weak “Hey” he receives is soggy and half-baked. Not a very good sign for such an important day as this. 

“So…” he continues, trying his absolute best to avoid the elephant in the castle, for his sake as well as the sanity of everyone else, “Did everyone sleep good last night?”

“Sleep? Pfft, I’ve practically programmed myself past the need for sleep now.” Pidge pushes her glasses higher up her nose and flashes one of her lopsided, sun-melting grins but nobody is fooled. Dark rings lurk behind the frames of her glasses. 

“You were pacing all night,” murmurs Allura. To prove it, one of the mice on her shoulder lets out a huge yawn for such a tiny creature. “Noise travels far through the castle walls.” 

“Are you sure that’s me? Because I’m pretty sure noise from any of the other rooms would reach you just fine if the walls are made of material with the same density throughout, plus something maybe with the density of steel acting as its framework…” 

Allura raises an eyebrow. Pidge folds her arms, glaring magnificently. 

“I tried to be considerate, I kept my socks on.”

“Well, counting your laps certainly made for an interesting way to pass the time,” adds Coran with a finger raised. “I used to pace and recite Kappota legends when I was but a scout preparing for initiation. Good rhymes, good times. Put me out faster than the whistle of an Oriricu chick.”

“Really now,” Allura says with a knowing smile that implies too much unspoken history and too many inside jokes, “Did it work this time?”

Coran clears his throat. “Um, w-well Princess, let’s just say I’m not as… innocent as I was as a scoutling—”

“Okaaay,” Lance sticks his hand out and flails it. “Enough. Nope. Don’t wanna hear  _ any _ of that. Did anyone do anything remotely unterrifying last night?”

“Last night I dreamed,” says Hunk calmly. Pidge says nothing, although her face, worn from tiredness and goodness knows what went on in that computer-esque brain of hers, seems to give a microscopic twitch. Hunk continues a beat and a sheepish scratch of his head later, “I dreamed of—”

“Was it about Voltron?” Keith interrupts with a glance at Shiro. “If it was about Voltron, don’t say it.”

“Keith,” says Lance exasperatedly, smacking a hand recklessly into Keith’s shoulder and earning himself an affronted growl, “I told you not to say the V word. We already went through this like a million times, why don’t you get it?” 

“There’s nothing to get,” replies Keith, “Voltron is Voltron, whether we call it The V Word or That Thing or the V… The Valoring, uh, Valoring Voltron—

“The Valorous Voluminous Voyager,” supplies Lance.

“—That,” says Keith. “Or whatever. What’s more important is to not talk about Voltron, that’s all.”

Pidge buries her face in her hands with a longsuffering groan only borne out bearing witness to this conversation far more times than necessary, a sure sign of her finally looking into recasting and settling for a nice calm life with Gunther and far, far away from the never ending feuds that besiege her here. 

Lance lets out a scandalised noise of outrage. “I spent an entire hour coming up with that name!”

“Valorous? Really? I don’t think you’re using that word correctly.”

“Well suck on my voluptuous valorous quiznak, Kei—”

“Guys,” Shiro cuts in and there is palpable relief from the bystanders of this squabble at being saved from uncomfortable references to anatomy, human or otherwise, and the disastrous biology lessons that will result in nothing else but shame all around. 

Lance and Keith glance at Shiro, then back at each other. The angry static flickering between them makes Shiro’s hair raise. They need a distraction. The shinier the better. 

Shiro turns to Hunk, who stiffens as the room’s attention settles hungrily on him. It’s clear to everyone that Shiro’s grasping at the almost-forgotten tail of the previous conversation but he’ll take anything that isn’t a straight-up bottle of vodka and a thousand years of drunken, blissful, ignorant sleep free from the burden that is his impending fate in Season Two.

Tearing himself away from the sweet temptation he asks Hunk, voice coming out a bit too airy and light, “You were saying? About your dream?”

Hunk waves his hands. “It’s just a dumb dream, so hey, what d’you say we talk about other things like, er, the chemical and physical signatures of some of the mineral composites I found yesterday afternoon on my trip down to the Rovallian coastline—”

“Aw, really? But I think we’d all love to hear about that dream,” Shiro presses on, missing a nervous fidget from Pidge, “We could all do with a distraction to take our mind off things.”

“That’s not really…”

“Come on, Hunk.”

“Well, er, I uhh,” Hunk sends a careful glance Keith’s way, and Shiro immediately knows he’d just opened the largest can of worms in the whole universe, “I dreamed that I… was finally… the head of Voltron.”

Pidge sinks down into her beanbag a little more and Keith rubs his eyes. 

Shiro says, “Oh.”

“I’m a leg,” Hunk says urgently, trying to settle Shiro, “My Lion’s a leg. Just a leg.”

“He is a leg,” agreed Lance. He nods at Shiro tersely. “And even if we did the whole Jenga routine again he’d still be a leg, so don’t you worry.”

“Voltron can’t have a leg for a head,” snaps Keith. 

“You’re missing the point.”

“Then what  _ is _ the point?”

“That you’re just an arm,” says Lance smoothly, “So shut up.”

“Excuse me? I am a  _ sword.” _

“Shield here,” Pidge raises her hand and then her voice to yell, “And  _ enough _ with the dumb dreams, nobody will be dying on my watch. So until it happens, it hasn’t happened, and we’re not going to worry about it until we finally get there.” 

Allura nods. The mice have pooled in her lap in a sleepy bundle, not even twitching an ear at the noise. She gives Shiro a meaningful look. 

“It’s going to happen either way. We should just be… prepared, as best as we can. Sometimes things are going to happen, and it’s going to be okay—”

“I’m screwed! Even Hunk’s dream says so,” Shiro buries his head in his hands. “What does  _ If I don’t make it out of here, I want you to lead Voltron _ even mean? How am I going to take Zarkon out in that strange dimension? What does — why do I — how am I supposed to turn  _ purple? _ I can’t turn purple!”

“We can deck you up with LEDs,” volunteers Pidge.

Keith growls, “No electrocuting Shiro.”

Lance sighs. “And come on, Shiro, turning purple is nothing! We all got it bad. At least you aren’t getting  _ strangled _ —” Lance hops out of the chair and does a great impression of a belly dancing spaghetti which would normally make everyone laugh if they weren’t all being crushed by the prospects of their own personal hells, “—by a huge strange cyborg hand.”

“Knowing the Voltron team  _ and _ the viciousness of the fanbase, I have probably  _ already _ been strangled by a huge strange cyborg hand.” Shiro huffs. “Thank you fourth wall, thank you amnesia.”

“If you save me again, Shiro, I demand you give me a proper hug instead of dumping me on a cold hard bench along the corridors of the castle.” Lance gives one of his eyebrows a very deft wriggle. “Just for bragging rights.”

“Bragging rights?” Shiro almost recoils, and then recoils for real when everyone in the room starts nodding (“Yeah, I second that,” Pidge says, Hunk clasps his hands together with a dreamy “Ah, those chiseled abs.” Coran has turned an unhealthy shade of pink, Allura’s busy laughing but still has time for a firm nod of agreement, and Keith has finally become the namesake of the Red Paladin). “Seriously? If you guys wanted hugs you could’ve just said so.”

“I actually beg to differ, because that just simply isn’t the same.” Allura  _ grins _ and Shiro inwardly swears because she is just doing this to make Shiro squirm and she absolutely revels in every moment. “When all the circumstances line up  _ just right _ it makes for a much better hug. We all know someone who has a weakness for that, don’t we, Keith?”

“When someone’s injured, you have to cradle them.” Keith grumbles, valiantly not looking at anyone, “I didn’t make the rules.”

“I haven’t heard of this rule,” Shiro gasps exasperatedly just as Pidge coos, “Aw, didn’t think you were such a softie, Keith.”

Hunk sits up, pushing his hand over Lance’s mouth. “I know what you’re gonna say Lance, so do not diss the hug! There is scientific proof that hugging promotes faster physical healing  _ and _ helps ward off the psychological aspects of trauma. That’s why some hospitals have volunteer service dogs and dog days. It’s a cost-friendly, efficient, and fun way to get the job done.”

_ No wonder getting a million dogs is on my bucket list, _ Shiro thinks.

Hunk continues with a firm, “Look, whatever happens from now until then isn’t gonna stop Season Two from happening. Even if we don’t want it to, it’s gonna happen. Might as well enjoy the ride.” 

“I’m looking forward to that shiny underwater realm,” Lance pipes up. His eyes are shining. “I hope there are some really sick alien fish and sharks and octopuses.”

“Octopuses? Mm, maybe not,” Pidge says sympathetically, “I hear those are a pain to animate. Maybe they won’t be moving.”

“Doesn’t rumour has it that they’re going to tell us a little about Garrison life?” Coran lets out a wistful sigh. “I can’t wait to find out how life is like. You lot keep talking about it.”

“Yeah,” Shiro and Keith share a knowing glance. “Plenty of things we  _ don’t _ talk about either, like bending the rules and breaking curfew—”

Lance’s jaw drops and there’s a metaphorical  _ thud _ where it hits the ground. “What?? All these years I thought you were supposed to be the role model for us, I always went to bed on time because I thought you did!”

“Really?” Hunk levels him an unimpressed stare. “Lance, lights out is at  _ eleven. _ Even our section commander doesn’t go to bed that early. There’s a reason why we only fall in at eight in the morning.”

“It was good for my complexion, I will admit, but  _ Shiro! _ did you really break the rules? You’re breaking my heart!”

“Can I say it was Keith’s fault?”

Keith rolls his eyes. “Sure, Shirogane  _ I Can’t Believe They Won’t Let Me Rewrite The Garrison Code Even After I Offered Twenty Times  _ Takashi.”

“I still stand by what I said, we need more bonding time and less time in the simulators.”

“That  _ is  _ a good idea,” Pidge snickers. “Their rules suck. And while you’re at it, beef up their security a little more.”

“My dreams are crushed,” Lance groans dramatically.

“Your dreams were just misplaced,” Hunk quips very dramatically. 

“My  _ future _ is misplaced,” Shiro groans not dramatically at all, “All of our futures are misplaced. We literally got flung out of a wormhole at top speed.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation,” Allura says slowly, “I hear that wormhole aside, our favorite Galrans are also in a little bit of a pickle.”

 

… 

 

And indeed Allura was right. Zarkon and his commanders have also been mulling about their prospects in Season Two, except the elephant in the empire belongs to that of Sendak, whose fate of being ejected in a cryotube and then rescued only weeks later still sends a chill down everyone’s napes and causes the fur of the more faint-hearted to stand. Of course nobody dares to say that to Sendak’s face. Even Zarkon says nothing of it.

The one most distraught about the upcoming fight scenes is Haggar, who had developed a strange endearment for the robeasts in the basements of their castle since the first season and now is trying hard not to think about what will happen to her beloved robeasts in Season Two. Secretly, she is planning setting up a petting zoo somewhere, full of dastardly ugly creatures whom shall be loved by nobody except her. Not even their mothers. Because she will be all their mothers.

Zarkon, on the other hand, is glad to leave Season One behind because, as everyone knows (all too well, though  _ he _ isn’t aware of that), he’s almost fervent in insisting that there are no bad vibes between him and king Alfor. “Not that I know of off the set, anyway,” he always is careful to quantify. “His daughter is a brave and courageous descendant and I look forward to meeting her and her friends again in Season Two.”

As for Thace — Thace thinks everyone’s too worried over absolutely nothing. After all,  _ he’s _ the one who may end up on the set of a Jerry Springer’s show because if they don’t rain confetti on him and yell  _ You’re the Father!!! _ in at least one of the Season Two episodes the rest of the Galrans sure as hell aren’t going to let him live it down. He doesn’t even remember this; has he sworn off the alcohol for nothing? Or perhaps this is part of the elusive backstory to which even  _ he _ isn’t privy to as of yet. Mm, suddenly the urge for a long, quintessence-laced mug of ambrosia has returned in full force.

But diplomatically, right now the most pressing issue at hand is the gift basket: Who shall deliver it to the Voltron crew? Haggar keeps claiming it Galran tradition, but Zarkon just wants to stick his bayard into it and be done with it. 

A Galran can take heart, however, that even despite the uncertainty of Season Two when Zarkon stabs something sharp into something else, that decision is always law. 

Some things simply don’t change.

(Maybe they’ll ask the rebels to do it, if they aren’t going through a crisis of their own. But they are. So are the Balmerans. And the Arusians. Everyone is having their own crises. Maybe in two working days the lines will clear and trans-intergalactic delivery will be operational once more. Shipping costs, though, oh boy.)

(The things they all do for Season Two.)

**Author's Note:**

> ~~Will the Voltron crew ever receive their gift basket? Stay tuned next week to find out!!!~~
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Ahem, will the Voltron crew make it out of Season Two??? 
> 
> Nobody is safe. Everyone is scared, but also ready to die. 
> 
> (Except Shiro. Shiro just wants his towel and his puppies. Someone help him.)  
>  
> 
> Alternative title:
> 
> _If I don't make it out of here, I want you to lead Voltron... or something to that effect_
> 
>  
> 
> EDIT: I have now watched Season 2.... haha ha ha ha ha ha


End file.
